


Mirage of Love

by staygaytabulous



Series: Dog Dads [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 11:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9605930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staygaytabulous/pseuds/staygaytabulous
Summary: Frank licks over his fangs habitually before smiling lovingly at him.





	

 

"Gee, I'm home!" Frank calls seconds before the front door closes loudly behind him.

Scuttling nails claw at the wooden floors, making their way towards Frank with little yips and yowls and barks. The dogs, big and little, all jump around him and whine for his attention.

Frank giggles at them all, "He-y, pups, where's your dad at?" he asks, even though he can hear loud music coming from Gerard's art room. "He must be working hard." He comments to them while he looks around the kitchen and living room. There's three different blankets piled on one side of rhe couch, and a few comic books cast astray on the side table. He also notices only bowls and plates from earlier in the day in the sink.

"It doesn't look like he ate dinner," Frank says and gives all of his dogs a look, "You know how he gets when he's in a mood."

Sweet Pea, one of his favorites of the bunch, prances at his feet. He bends down and pets at her head.

"I know, girl. I'll go get him out of his funk, don't you worry." Frank stands back up and then swerves through the mob of dogs.

He makes his way to Gerard's creative space. The door is painted with hand prints and random swatches of colors. Frank's own hand prints mix with the rest.

He hushes at his pets, letting his fangs slip from his mouth with a hiss, showing his dominance to the smaller, much noisier dogs who don't like to follow direction. Slowly, he opens the door, trying to keep it from making a noise as well as keep the dogs out.

He slips in through the small crack, then, once inside, presses his back to the door and leans on it. He can just barely hear the 'click' of the lock over a song by some new punk band pumping through the speakers in each corner of the room. Gerard is there, though to most it wouldn't seem so. The canvas that's sitting off to the right of the room is being splattered with more and more paint of all different colors. The paintbrush seemingly moving on its own as it dips into the floating palette opposite of it.

Frank rasps his knuckles on the doorframe. "Knock, knock." He says lightly.

The paintbrush stops immediately and gets placed on a box near many empty cups of coffee, then the palette does, too. Almost as if he were a mirage, Gerard appears, shimmering for a few seconds as he does so. He leans towards him, giving him a kiss on his cheek with a laugh before launching into a back story for his latest work in progress.

Frank licks over his fangs habitually before smiling lovingly at him. He's a mess, with a smudge of charcoal on his forehead and a giant glob of sunflower yellow paint adoring his apron. His short hair is up in the messiest bun he's ever seen in his life, and he's wearing his sandals. He's never been more in love than in this moment.


End file.
